Blood in the water
by Camaxtli
Summary: It's been eight years since the chunnin exam. Eight years since Naruto left. Eight years of boredom, of pain, and of quiet growing despair.Konoha is dying and I was dying with it. Things just changed. Only one thing is for sure. I'm not bored any more.Ino
1. Chapter 1

I'm out of chakra. My muscles tremble with weakness, I'm bleeding from a thousand cuts, I'm out of chakra. Out. He stands there laughing, that, that... Sword gripped in his hand. I hate him. I hate him more than I have ever hated anything or anyone before.

Samehada. Samehada, the shark-tooth blade. Samehada, companion of the beast. Samehada, final legacy of the biju that Kisame ate. You can call it just a sword, but you'd be lying. It lives. It hungers. I can feel it. With each drop of chakra, each dollop of blood that it drinks I can feel that damn blade grinning at me. If it weren't for the blade, I might be able to beat him. But then again, if it weren't for the blade he would still be human.

What a laugh. Pretty, decorative Yamanka Ino is able to beat KISAME? It's the truth. Those who knew me before Hinata left might not believe it, but I've improved so much. I've stopped working at the shop, cut my hair, clothes, and make-up time to a third, and nearly stopped hanging out with friends altogether. I barely keep in touch anymore. What do I do with all that free time? I train. I train and train and train, even went so far to ask LEE for help. He's a nice guy, I admit, but... A bit too nice. And sometimes he can take things the wrong way… Why do so many ninja men think of training together as a date? Despite his many faults, he's nearly unstoppable at hand-to-hand.

Why did I change like this? Hinata, to begin. I started hanging around with Hinata in the time that she started to change, and so I started to change. I made friends with her new friends, and they lived for their work. That crept into me. When she left, that still remained. Second, Sasuke. All the girls went after him like bitches in heat and I got dragged along in the overwhelming wake of their passion. When he left they stopped loving him and I got my own will back. I am proud. I will be the best. Third, Shikamaru. He loves me. I don't love him, though he is my best friend. I can't resist him at first, and when I do it hurts. Each time we break up I care a little bit less. I don't care about anyone much anymore. Except, now, Kisame.

I hate Kisame with a burning passion. I hate him because he underestimated me in the start and I almost kicked his ass. I hate him for that crippling killing intent that meant I didn't. I hate him because I can't feel it anymore. I hate him for what that might mean. I hate him for his sword and the advantage it brings. I hate him for taking, absorbing, EATING a biju and becoming so powerful that I cannot hope to beat him. I hate him because he refuses to beat me. I hate him for not hating me. I hate him because I'm getting used to him. I hate him because he's not nearly as ugly as I thought. I hate him because he knows I think that. I hate him because he's infecting me. I hate him because he's not afraid. And neither am I. Most of all, I hate because I don't. All my hate has bled away. Why? Because he doesn't hate me back.

He starts and I've already moved to intercept him. It's what's been keeping me alive for the last half an hour, already past the point of exhaustion. I know him better than I've known anyone before. Only ten minutes ago I hated him for that. I know when he's going to move, what he's going to do, and why he's going to do it. His fingers twitch and I've already got a kunai flying towards him, one to where he was and once to where he will be. He catches it with a laugh, in a small way defeated. And then we pause, actually pause, for the first time in two hours. Two hours of battle, of burning muscle and screaming pain, of watching my teammates die, slaughtered, of dancing an intricate fatal dance. I suddenly wonder what he sees.

Here I am, half a cat mask hanging off my face. Here I am, wearing the tatters of a jounin vest and an ANBU uniform. Here I am, panting, sweating, pushed past exhaustion. Here I am, beautiful. I can feel his thoughts moving in the same paths. I get it before he does. I flush just a bare moment before he gets it. He grins. I'm suddenly reminded that I havn't had sex in a more than a month. Shikamaru hasn't been able to find me in between missions. Kisame, stilling grinning, extends his arm. And drops his sword. No, he doesn't just drop it, he shoots it though the water into the ground. He starts walking towards me and shrugs off his robe, grin widening. It falls down with a splash. Shit. I could barely touch him before, if that damn cloak was weighted... For the first time I remember my own weights.

He doesn't seem to be going anywhere fast, so I take the chance to chuck my weights and take a soldier pill. I flush again as chakra fills me, tingling gently. I can feel Samehada, hungering but quiescent. It wants me, but it's willing to wait. She, she is willing to wait. Samehada is in some way female, though with no physical life. The knowledge is pure and compelling, I don't, can't, have any doubt. Kisame puts up his dukes, settling into a faintly ridiculous fighting pose. He's taunting me; he's waiting for me to make the first move. I can't disappoint him.

It's a different battle entirely. We cut in and out of the lake, barely noticing the difference. He's stronger than me, much stronger, but Lee has done his job. I'm fast. And I know what he's going to do almost before he does. Geysers of mud are thrown up by impact, trees shatter under fists, the very earth cracks beneath our feat. I can feel a grin stretching my own lips. For the very first time I can feel why some people enjoy combat so much. I know I should disengage, I should run away from this psychotic brute. Your mission is so rarely more important that your life. Before, with my weights, I couldn't. Now I won't.

In the back of my mind I can feel reinforcements coming up. The ANBU who have come are horrified and amazed, the damage we've done is enormous. I feel a flicker of contempt, his, or mine I can't tell. It worries me that I can't. Then comes someone that I haven't felt in ages, Hinata. Her gaze tingles as she watches us, appraising, approving, amused. Assuming things that are not. We've been fighting this long and no one has died, an obvious sign of flirting. She thinks it's cute, or perhaps romantic. Anything but. We both stop at once, having flown too far apart. The first one to attack will be at a disadvantage, and neither is willing to give the other that. I quickly judge the weight of my pockets, seems I have one kunai left. I thought that I was out. I flick it towards his head and then we're off.

It's slower this time, more thought out. We give each other enough room to use ninjutsu. We're bragging or performing, if there is a difference. The presences recede behind us, battling, and then I'm running out of chakra again. His is three quarters gone as well, but he's a monster. The quarter that he has left is almost half of mine. Even still I would have been fine if not for that damn sword... I get an idea. I can feel the ANBU faltering under Hinata's onslaught, so this is my only chance. If I have to fight her as well, I'm fucked. I duck back, dodge a dozen strikes and an ethereal shark, and dive for his sword. It's only when I catch it that I remember that it obeys no master but him.

That doesn't seem to make a difference. Maybe it's not true, or maybe… I said before, I hated him because he's infecting me. It's true. It's his joy of battle, but I've made it mine. It's his lust, blood and otherwise, at least I'd like to think. With a start I realize that it's his techniques I'm using, his style of combat, and his kind of strategy. It's because of him that I can finally match him. His mind and mine... It will fade in time, but for now I can barely tell the difference. My father warned me of this. It's why he couldn't fight Kyuubi. It's why my family is so stubborn, so arrogant, so demanding, and so mad. If their will is stronger than ours, our sensitivity is a weakness. We must be strong. It is our greatest fear, the fear of losing ourselves. Suddenly, for just a moment, I can hate him again. And just as suddenly I can't.

Samehada is surging into me, her mind invading me, a dozen tiny spines piercing my flesh and drinking my blood. My shock is only rivaled by Kisame's. We pause again, leftover ninjutsu still crashing and battling, water dragons raging above the water and sharks tearing at each other in it. I take a deep breath, still underwater. I do not drown. And then the hunger hits me. I know now why Kisame is so psychotic. A monk could not resist that call.

I breathe in and quiver as a surge of chakra hits me. His sharks, my sharks, his dragons, my dragons, and from a hundred feet away a few fireballs, a few bunshin, a few of Hinata's jyuuken spikes, an earth jutsu, they all dissolve and hit me at once. I can taste them; I can tell both element and purpose. Each seal gives its own flavor, though that's not the right word, subtle and complex sensations that compel you to take more. I could spend years lost in this sensation…

The feelings are overwhelming me, I can't think. Samehada is warm in my hands, I love her. Kisame is striding towards me on the water, his face fixed in that oh-so-funny panicked, shocked, yearning expression. I feel something deep inside my mind wriggle, shift and then I change forever, and I can smell him. Smell isn't the right word, as taste was not the word before. I have seven senses, I know this. The five that all men have, the sixth chakra sense that all ninja possess, and the seventh mind sense that is mine and my families alone. My sixth sense has color now. It has gone from simple pressure to texture, to heat, to... It cannot be described. Kisame is delicious.

I'm still disconnected as I begin to siphon his chakra. He had been doing the same to me, but stopped. He was enjoying me too much. In my haze I wonder how he had the strength of will. It's so good, so very very right, my knees are trembling but not with exhaustion, my balance is fading but not with dizziness, my body is failing me and I don't mind one bit. My grip on Samehada never slacks. Kisame is in range, and the last of my willpower, my honor, and my duty compels me. I must at least try to finish the mission, after all. I misjudge her weight, my partner my lover my soulmate my fondest dream (my worst nightmare says a tiny tiny voice) my weapon. That word will never be the same. He doesn't try to dodge, I don't hit hard enough. She bites lightly into the gap just above his last rib. I can taste his blood through her, copper-iron bitter-spicy delicious. I love it. Sometime later I might be afraid of that. He reaches down, grabs one of her spikes, sweet bitter-hot blood dripping down it like the lightning down my spine, and then snaps.

I feel a spike of rage and despair, despair at her injury and rage that he would dare. It vanishes as she tells me that she's still there, that Samehada still is loving me and hungering for me and ripping my mind apart and putting it back together and making me for the very first time complete, and she speaks without words or image just pure refined thought that feels like the voice of angels and the breath of demons and the greatest meal and hard-won kill and all that is beautiful with no good or evil that is her, her to her core. She speaks to me, laughing under non-existent breath, telling me that she heals, that sharks always have another tooth. Relief washes over me. I open eyes that I never realized I closed and wonder how much time I lost.

Hinata is there, watching with fascination in those beautiful blank eyes. Her chakra is pure and intense, beautiful. She is my enemy, a traitor, but I can't help but love her. Samehada is safe. On the branch beside her lie six ANBU, only one dead. His legs are twisted and his neck is snapped. I know her tactics, her abilities, but I don't need to. I can almost see her memories, and can remember her feelings. She threw Jyuuken spikes, overdoing it since I ate the last volley(so delicious). She misses with half, he dodges the other half, but the last quarter strike home in his chakra points. He was dodging, jumping, chakra'd muscles and chakra'd agility letting him accomplish the casual impossibilities that characterize a ninja battle. When he landed on a branch, chakra flow cut off, reality quickly caught up with him.

His legs would have snapped like dry branches beneath a genins feet. I can't remember his name, though his mask is broken as well and I can see his face. Unable to support his weight, bones poking from his skin, he tumbles off to fall to the floor. Samehada wonders how his marrow would taste; I involuntary salivate, gulping and licking my lips. His face twisted into that mask of shock and pain, he would curl up around that agony, that very movements moving what should not move even more, causing him yet more pain. A small part of me, last holdout, wonders that the thought of his pain still repulses me. Samehada replies that we are a predator; the chase is joy and the battle is fun and the meat is sweet, and the pain is only to be regretted if they get away. Killing needs not be cruel. My last holdout is lost. Trapped in his pain he would not notice the ground approaching, inertia spinning him around and presenting the dead dry leaves his neck. There would be a sharp snap, I remember how suddenly his agony/terror just... Dissappeared. He would never even know he was dead.

Hinata watches me remember/imagine this, that once shy face now mobile and expressive. She smiles a dainty little smile as I lick my lips, then her brows furrow as she follows my gaze. She glances at me, mouth pursed in puzzlement at my lack of regret, then turns back to him with her tight-lipped regret. Her miniscule drama concluded, she looks back at me, at a spot before me. I wonder how I missed Kisame. Samehada smiles with me, her love for him and my flattered/fearful/fond feelings for that expression on his face, those feelings in his mind. He is shocked still, behind that a mix of jealousy and pride and lust(long after, I ask Hinata how I looked. She told me that I was so beautiful and so strange, that with my joy/love/pride(a thousand different things) I very nearly glowed) and more. Deep down, an unquashable hope(someone that knows, that understands, that feels what you feel and knows not to judge) and an unfamiliar almost kinship, a yearning for something that just might be, for someone who just might be, and a despair that he might must stop it from ever being.

Hinata is happy for him, and sad for what he will do, and thoughtful about what that might change. Her face reflects it so well, is so very unbearably expressive, so very different from what it once was that I can't help but watch her. Perhaps it's that I feel so strong (what I feel I don't know) that I can barely glance at him. It flashes through my mind that if I did not have my bloodline that I would love to play poker with her. As is, it's no contest. Nobody will/would let me play. I can feel them, without even seeing it I can tell them their hand. My thoughts break as he takes my hand, Samehada's tiny spines breaking through my skin to join her to him, him to me, as me to her. The connection is so intense on my side that I can feel the shape of his life and how it made him. I can feel things clicking, fusing, changing in me. Even in time, when I am me and just me again, I will not be. Just a little bit, I will always be him. Through our connection I can feel him pick up just a little bit of me. Samehada approves. Hinata gasps in awe; I can only imagine what our chakra is doing.

He raises the tooth, that part of Samehada that he took, the evidence of a crime that just now I cannot imagine how anyone could make. I'm afraid now, Samehada is enraged, and Kisame is bitter/loving/lusting but most of all firm. Unstoppable. I struggle but it's too late, my legs are trapped in his own and my blows on his back don't phase him and he slowly cuts down my face. He works quickly, firmly, cutting small slivers off of my face. Hinata's face lights up in understanding. After a moment, I can feel the pattern too. He's scarring me. He's giving me his gills. He's marking me as his own. I can't find it in myself to regret that, though the method he's chosen is bad. When he is done he drops the knife and grabs my hand and kisses me, hard. I bite his tongue. He nips my lips. He licks the wounds free of blood, sending me bursts of chakra that heal them instantly into scars. When he is done, he gazes at me, his face for once unreadable, then signals Hinata. She raises her hand, chakra swirling in her palm, then it shoots towards me and it all goes dark. As I faint, I feel the tooth jerk into my ribs. He leaves it there. It's the last thing I know.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake in the hospital crying. ANBU mill about, helpless and clueless. The job doesn't exactly foster social skills. Even if you are in an infiltration you rarely have to comfort a crying woman. It doesn't help that they don't know whether I'm a guest or a prisoner. What could they do? They called for backup.

Shizune rushes in and I was crying on her shoulder before I know it. She pats me on my back and whispers comforting nothings. It's the best she can do without knowing what's wrong, though she suspects. She thinks that I'm crying because I was beaten, because my teammates had died, or maybe because I'd been raped, though she was not so graceless as to mention it.

It's an understandable misunderstanding; what with how few clothes I had left when they knocked me out. I knew what he was going to do as soon as he did, but he's in his prime, while I have a few years left to get to that. He's just all around faster than me, I was fast enough to dodge him but not by any but the barest of margins. My clothes suffered for it.

None of it is true, but I don't disabuse her. I've loved and lost, but if she knew that it'd be bad for my health. Luckily, no one saw me wield Samehada but the enemy, and they don't talk to Konoha. There was no way to tell that it was me either, they likely thought that Kisame ate their jutsu. After all, he still has Samehada now….

Even as I cry, I make myself a promise. I will not return to her. I will not take her from him. With her I felt good, great, better than I've ever felt before, but it was a false high. Mostly. Now that I have distance and clarity, I can tell what was beneath her love. It was nothing but cold calculation, the simple wish to have the very greatest bearer possible. I love her still, but I will not be used by her. I want her, and even more than that I want what she would give me, but my pride will not let me accept that. I might not be able to serve Konoha, even.

I slowly gather what had happened to me from her words and my own guesses. I had been knocked unconscious next to the two survivors of Hinata's attentions. After they had established that the Akatsuki had left, they tended to their wounds and found me as they left. They had literally stumbled over my body, as they had not bother to look for my team. Kisame has never left survivors before now. Besides, they didn't know who my team was, or even that there had _been_ a team.

They knew that _someone_ had been fighting Kisame, but hadn't been close enough to find out who. They didn't know whether it had been me to face him in the end and just been spared, if I had been captured in a water prison, "used", and then spared because of that, or if I had been able to stand up to him, been punished for that, then left with my scars, or if something very different had happened. The second was least likely in everyones eyes. I'm not that strong, and fights with Kisame usually end with the opponent in several pieces. That sword isn't just for show. They had decided to be cautious, as they cannot predict the third. Knowing that I am safe, for now, I drop into a deep sleep. This isn't the coma from before. This time I dream.

I am in a sandstone hallway, fossils large and small embedded on all sides. Behind me is sealed, so I walk forward. After a few steps I begin to notice the carvings. They frame the fossils, and depict them. Not as they are now, but what they would be in life. Maybe what they were in life. All have one thing in common. They are fierce, predators. Most seem to be some form of shark. There in a small inscription beneath them. I feel someone else's satisfaction when I realize that they are dates. It's when I ate them.

I spare attention to myself. I am naked, barefoot. Each step gives a strange, rasping echo, like the finest of sandpaper. When I look down I note that I'm stepping in two channels filled with sand, likely worn from my own footsteps. The channels are nearly a foot deep. All too soon the hallway comes to an end.

There is an alter there, but it is dedicated to no one. There are no pictures, no words, nothing but six items and a fire in a stone bowl. The first I notice is a mirror, but what stares back is not myself. At least, not as I'm used to. My face is sharper, harsher, but not unpleasant. I have Kisame's scars, but soften the eyes they surround. Those eyes are black with yellow rings, those of the predators of the deepest sea. My skin is a deep blue, verging on black, but it suits me. When I look closely I'm covered in millions of tiny, tiny scales.

I step back and admire myself. I look wild, alien, and beautiful. I feel stronger than ever, and look better. My muscles are hard and lean, but a small layer of fat softens the effect. My hair is spiked and kinky, nearly more spines than hair. My breasts are slightly smaller and much firmer, seeming to ignore gravity totally. I'm totally hairless, and my nipples are small and shapely. They harden as I notice the cold, flushing red. They have no scales. If not for my "skin" I think that all of me would look like that, the flesh pale and nearly translucent. All along me are small patches of phosphorescence, glowing a pale jade. They line my cheeks, my jaw, my limbs and my hands. I love it. All of it. I've always been vain, and this does not disappoint me.

First is a pair of gloves. I draw them on then hiss with rage. Magically I'm wearing a full suit of clothes, covering me totally. What skin must be shown, as on my face, is covered with a thick layer of base then blush, making me seem almost totally human. I've contacts to hide my eyes. I draw the gloves off and throw them into the fire. I will not hide myself from the world.

Next is a pair of sunglasses. I grimace, but draw them on. The world dims. I lose five senses I didn't even know that I had. They shatter even as they flicker into ash. What Samehada had given me temporarily was only half of it. I can sense humidity and temperature to an amazing degree, in a way that has nothing to do with touch. I can sense heat, electricity, and things I don't even have words for. I reach out blindly and sip a glass of water.

It's… Indescribable. All my senses come into play. I have no doubt that this is my true element. The water is salty, pleasantly briny in a way that would have me retching before the change. I could go on and on, and this was a simple glass of water. The thought of a swim makes me shiver. I won't hide the world from me any more than I'd hide from the world.

I know what this is even before I touch it. It's a vase of flowers, to represent what I give up. First, a daisy for innocence. Second, acacia for friendship. Elm for patriotism. A bramble for friends, family, my village, my work, my comrades. The land that I love and everything in it. I know what I will be, and Konoha will not accept a Biju. I start to cry as I divine my answer. I marshal myself as it hits me with memories of Sakura, of Shika, but there is no need. They aren't enough. I haven't been happy here, not for a long time.

I havn't gotten along with Sakura ever since I gave up on Sasuke. She never forgave me that. Shika… I loved him, once. And I loved him again. We have a bad relationship, me breaking up and him making up, over and over. Each time hurts a little bit less. Each time I care a little bit less. I'm almost out of care. After InoShikaCho broke up I've never really cared for any teammates, my work the same, and for my family and land… Every bird must leave the nest. What I am, or rather what I will be, never even hesitates. And I sacrifice my remorse. The petals curl as they burn.

On the other side is another vase, representing things very different. Amaranth for immortality. Cedar for strength. Cress for power Gardenia for joy. And proud in the center, Nightshade for truth. As I take them up I can feel a weight lift off my shoulders, all my doubts fall away. I've killed before, both the guilty and the innocent. It doesn't matter to me anymore. I hated killing people and never admitted it even to myself. Not cut out to be a ninja. Now I am. I feel no more guilt for killing a man than for squashing a bug. I smile, and my teeth are small and sharp. Perfect for a predator. Perfect for a shark. I know what I am, and I like it. As I wait to wake I start to plan.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake up gasping. That wasn't me, that couldn't be me. It was almost me… And I can see how it I could /I be me. The ANBU are cooler this time, confident that I'm not a psychopath. I'm not as sure as they are. I gather the blanket and stumble over to the washroom.

The mirror shows only me, with no glowing patches, blue skin, or pointy teeth. A part of me is disappointed, but resolved to be patient. The rest of me is trying to stone that part to death and failing miserably. It's just the same Ino, the same that I've seen since the baby fat melted off. I'm a bit too tall, bit too lean, breasts a bit too small, but still beautiful. Except for the scars. I'm covered in them, head to toe, and six new ones absorb my attention. They frame my eyes, giving them a fierce directness that almost scares me. I take care of other business (apparently I barely avoided a catheter) and sit back down.

The ANBU are nobody that I know, two bird masks and some weird little dog thing. It's hell being a low-ranked ANBU, they have to scrape the barrel for you. I was some type of lemur for a year, which does not inspire fear. I swear dogboy is leering at me, though you can't tell. Some bastard actually padded his vest and spent an hour "searching" the woman's bath before Anko kicked his ass out. She refused to reveal who it was on the grounds that it'd ruin her blackmail.

"Can I have some privacy? I'd like to get dressed." They confer for a moment, then all leave. Idiots. I couldn't have protested much to them leaving the femme behind, not like I care if any girl sees me naked, and this leaves them open to sooo much. With the little bow on the bouquet- doesn't mean anything, just a collection of pretties- and a few other little items lying around I could trap the door so that it would take them ten minutes to get in safely, and set all that up in less than a minute. Even if they're watching the door too close for that I can set something up in the middle of the room with the bed sheets and crap!..

Unprofessionalism gets me all riled up, I'm gonna just drop it and get dressed. One of my modified uniforms, Shikamaru probably picked it up from my apartment. If my father had brought it, the flowers would probably be saying something to the effect of "Be more careful you airhead, I hate worrying". I grimace. I don't like Shika in my apartment, and I don't like him doing stuff for me. We've been dating off and on for years, me breaking up because he's a lazy bastard and him dragging me back by doing something sweet and being slavishly devoted for a week or few. It never lasts. I try not to give him chances to do that anymore.

I set up something quick and easy in the room. No deadlies, but a few things that LOOK like deadlies. Luckily, I've a few poisonous looking but not poisonous pretties in that bouquet, so I can make something impressive looking that can't actually hurt anyone. I do so, then drop out the window. It's a small challenge to get down the wall unseen, they've got watchers but anyone higher than chunnin can probably do it. I'm good at stealth, it was InoShikaCho's favorite tactic. When you can't fight, hide or run away. It's wisdom, not cowardice. InoShikaCho is gone, but I still have the skills.

Now that I'm out of the damn hospital I have to decide what the hell to do. Stopping off at the ANBU barracks would be… unwise, as I ran from my escort. There is nothing to do at my apartment. My parents would ask awkward questions that I'm not in the mood for. On the other hand, I have built up an impressive amount in my bank account that I've never gotten around to spending… And I need new clothes.

I pick up some cash from the bank and go down to the commercial district. First I go clothes shopping. I need new clothes, civilian clothes, I've only been in uniform recently. Half of my old clothes no longer fit right or suit me. I havn't cared much, but I need to gain new friends and renew my loyalty, and clothes make that easier. Plus, I need to stop being a work-a-holic and get new interests.

I pick up some dresses, I don't have many and I look good in them, and go into the changing room. It's a total disaster. I put on a black and slinky and find myself wondering how things will look with turquoise, if the silk will catch on my sandpaper skin, what looks good with strange, alien black-and-gold eyes, and whether it's better to cover my glowing spots and mute them, and if so what colors look best with a jade glow behind them, or if I should bare them proudly and choose colors to match. It freaks me out. I don't want to accept things this easily, I shouldn't. I storm out and have to stop myself from buying several ugly pink dresses just because they wouldn't work with that me. I end up getting nothing, in a rather angry fashion. I think the clerks were afraid of me.

Shoes are no better. I've no new clothes to match them to, for one. And I'm just… Uncomfortable. I don't really want any, and I doubt that I would use them when- if, I mean – I change. My skin was tough, I wouldn't need shoes, and because of the texture I'd have ripped them apart in a dozen steps. The groove that had been worn in the floor was deep, deeper than centuries of human feet could have made. That makes me want to buy some… But I can't find any that I want. I walk up and down the aisles quickly at first, nothing catching my eye. I walk slowly, looking at details, and can't feel a flicker of interest. Most everything goes the same way. I don't get a purse, for instance, because I won't ever use one. I have vests for that, and I can alter a civilian dress to have plenty of inconspicuous pouches for weapons and anything else I need.

I end up just giving myself up to the crowd in the Yamanka way. I'm a bitch. I know I'm a bitch. If I wasn't a bitch, I wouldn't be me. With our abilities, everyone else is pressing against our minds at all times, and we must fight back. We can't allow ourselves doubt, to be influenced overmuch by others, or to lose confidence. If you start allowing any of that, your personality begins to erode. We are still strongly influenced by others, though, because we must choose our battles. Pick and choose your bones, the foundation of your personality, and give everything else up as lost to the will of the mob.

That was why InoShikaCho was made, in fact. Our family's abilities complement each other perfectly, but more than that, they make us sane. The Akimichi stoic dependability and the Nara self-reliance act as pillars of strength and pools of calm that we can draw on to fight the outside world. They filter the worst of our influences, keeping us stable. Or at least, they did. They did until Shikamaru fell in love with me, I fell out of love with him, and poor Chouji was caught in the crossfire. They did, a bit, until it all happened again and again. When Shikamaru does not have me, he loves me. He loves me so strongly that I can't resist, that I'm swept up in his emotions. When he has me, he takes me for granted. He lets his apathy creep back in and I walk back out the door. I don't really love him. I don't know if I can love anyone on my own, before they love me back.

I give myself to the crowd. It's so easy to do, you just have to drop your guard a little bit and you stop thinking to follow their will, doing what they want to do as they want to do it. It's a dangerous thing; there is always the chance that you won't come back out, that you'll change so much as to be unrecognizable, or that you'll do something that cannot be forgiven. I've lost two uncles to the first. The bones of their minds dissolved, leaving them nothing but clever beasts. We give them mercy killings. I'm lucky this time. I come up in a bar and it just doesn't occur to me to stop drinking. At least until Shikamaru walks in.


	4. Chapter 4

I can tell it's him. All ninja have a distinct feel, as ninja and as themselves. Ninja are more focused, more aware, more… A hundred different things. They feel like no other type of human. I've met at most four non-ninja, all mercenaries, which felt even a little like ninja. Each ninja is different, as well. We are highly individualistic people, as well as being at least a little bit mad. Even if power does not corrupt, it warps. This is a Nara, and this is Shikamaru. Beside him is someone tired, bitter, and a bit psychotic. Anko. I like Anko, but if she's being paired with Shika that means that I'm in trouble. I don't think the pair of them has failed yet.

I try to make myself inconspicuous. Amateurs always think they have to hunch down, get out of sight, but that actually attracts attention. It doesn't matter if they _see_ you, it matters that they _notice_ you. You just have to not stand out. Move with the crowd, look like the crowd, be the crowd. When you _do_ notice someone, you might think "Whoah, he has a big nose" or "That's bright hair!" but that's not what attracts your attention in the first place. The big nose and the bright hair don't help, but they aren't the only reason. It is patterns and motion at the core of it.

I'm able to avoid detection for a while, the first sweep doesn't catch me, but then they go over everyone one by one. I take a swig. The beer is piss. I slam it down to catch their attention, slopping it over the bar. The bartender gives me a dirty look, but blanches at my glare. Orochimaru is the master of body language; he created a formalized system that goes straight to the reptile brain. You have to modify it for the culture and your own looks, but the theory is always the same. He taught some of it to Anko, and she taught most of that to me. Orochimaru can paralyze you, Anko can terrify you, and I can look more dangerous than you'd believe. People use it instinctively, if you know you're dangerous you act dangerous, but a wimp who knows it can seem badass if he knows how. You can do more with it, seem a leader or be overlooked or a thousand other things, but fear is simple and easy. Bartender won't fuck with me. Poor consolation.

Shikamaru looks over and sees me, gets that oh so loving, painful, worried, needy feeling. Normally I respond in kind, but I'm a bit drunk and belligerent so it pisses me off. I flip him off in the mirror, he gets shocked and a bit hurt, but Anko laughs. Not out loud, but she laughs all the same. We get along, Anko and I.

They sit beside me, Shikamaru to my right and Anko to his right. They aren't trying to intimidate, then. Either way, between the shadows and the snakes they've got me, but truth is weak to emotion. I do feel safer. Shikamaru projects loving reassurance, he wants to help me. To find out what's wrong and kiss it away, and if he gets to keep on kissing he won't complain. I know him. I don't want to be helped, I don't want kisses. This is a rough bar, not a bar for talking but a bar for drinking and a bar for fighting. I want to fight and my self control is fading.

When you're a ninja, you're dangerous. You know that all the time, and as per the cliché, with power come responsibility. I can snap you like a twig, so I'm not allowed to try. We fight with words when no one is going to get killed. I've made one man cry today.

"Ino…" He begins with a plead. He knows I'm pissed, he knows I'm upset, but won't you just listen to me? Don't stare forward, don't fix your gaze, don't be a bitch. Be reasonable. I'm not in the mood.

I turn to him, sucrose sweet, fake as an office plant. "What is it, oh dearest?" He jerks, stung. He knows I don't love him, but can't help but hope. We broke up a month ago, which means that he'd usually be making up around now. "Don't mind me, talk. I'm listening." I'm going to fight. Talk to me, expose a weakness. I'll pounce.

"Don't be that way, we're worried about you. We didn't know where you went." He's isn't playing fair, not putting up his mask. He's not even accusing. No offense, no defense. He offers reconciliation, redemption, surrender. Just go with us, ask a few questions, and it'll all be alright. Fuck that.

"What, don't think I can take care of myself? I've a clean bill of health, strong as an ox. Even if I was sick, I'm a fucking jounin." I'm not dumb enough to mention that they don't trust me. In a perfect world, everything would be treated like it actually is, but in this one pretending something doesn't exist helps make it go away, or at least puts it off. "Or is Temari leaving again and you're worried that your bed will get cold? Don't worry about that; you can just do what you always do. Follow me around for a bit and I'll open my legs. I'm a Yamanka after all." He's stung again, hurt. He fishmouths for a bit. He always genuinely regrets what he does with Temari. He feels that he's using her, not that she minds, and that he's betraying me, which makes me glad and makes me pissed. I want him to go away, to stop loving me, stop making me love him, however temporarily. But he does love me, thinks he's betraying me, and does it anyways. That pisses me off. If he didn't care, I wouldn't, but he does so I do.

"I…" He's shaken, eyes slightly bright, and I actually begin to feel a little bad. If Temari really is gone he's got no one to run to for comfort. I kill that straight off. Anko is an honest bitch, she's enjoying this and doesn't mind that, so I grab that instead.

She's a psychotic and a sadist, and so I become. "You what? Want me back? Want me to be nice and obedient and return on schedule? I'm not a boomerang, you know. I'm not a fucking yo-yo. Each time I leave, you give me flowers, take me on a date, and I come straight back. You don't try to keep me because you know that you can just do it again. Fuck that. Fuck it up the ass with no fucking lube." There are lines, and I'm crossing them. I win. He gets angry, puts on his mask.

Little Shika the hunter-nin is back. The lazy hardass; he says don't fuck with me and don't waste my time. "You know you're under house arrest. You're a jounin, and ANBU to boot. You know what having an escort means. Why'd you drop it?" Anko is getting serious too. I see her flash some symbols out of the corner of my eye; She was willing to stand by and let him try and control the situation, but this is the point where I might run. She's not going to be caught with her pants down.

I smile again, this time aspartame. Fake, far too sweet, and poisonous to boot. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to try on a few outfits; My wardrobe is getting a bit dated you know. You know how it is, don't you Anko? You get mission after mission, no time to relax and your wallet just getting bigger. Didn't think they'd appreciated just sitting around and watching me dress." I shouldn't have done that, digging at Anko. She doesn't get very many missions at all. I'm lying my ass off, he knows it, I know he knows it. How the game is played. No ANBU would mind a lazy little mission like that. It beats rounding up all the puppies in Po-Dunk village and mutilating them to put the fear into the populace. Beats it by a lot, unless you like hurting puppies, in which case you wouldn't be in ANBU. Be cruel, but don't enjoy it. Enjoying it means you might get too… Enthusiastic.

"Bullshit." Right on time, all according to schedule. "Stop wasting my time," I could be napping, "I could be napping right now." Shika, I know you too well. "You aren't a fucking spy. Why'd you drop them? Just tell me."

I drop the smile. "My team died." He blinks and pulls back just a bit. "I fought with one of the most dangerous people in the world. I'm a bit tense, if you can't tell. A girl can't relax under supervision." He narrows his eyes at me.

"You didn't give a shit about your team. I doubt you even know their names. You don't give a shit about fighting. For the past three years you haven't requested a day off, not even after we tried to interfere with the soukou raid. Why? What happened this time?" Truth and truth. I wasn't bothered by trying to stop five Akatsuki, which I guess should be bothered by. It doesn't say much for my self-preservation instincts. I pull out a big gun.

"You know, I wasn't wearing very much when they brought me in." This is truth. It's a misleading truth, but a truth. That's the very best kind. He goes white and back to worrying about me, shattering the mask. "I just needed some time alone." Truth as well. I had to think, or to avoid thinking.

"I… I'm sorry, I… I didn't…" It's pathetic. I stand and walk off, careful to make no threatening gestures. I look at Anko before I exit, jerking my head slightly.

"No, you didn't." He looks shattered. He's a stew of regret and self-blame, forgetting entirely about his mission. I should feel bad about this, and I do, so I toss off one thing more. "He didn't rape me." Bam. From shattered to a different kind of shock. I close the door. If I'm lucky, he'll wonder about just exactly that means. I never said Kisame didn't fuck me. This might keep him off me for a while.

Anko comes out, a considering expression on her face. "That was mean; all of it was. I didn't know you had it in you." She gives me a sly look, and a tiny laugh. More of a huff, really.

"I'm feeling mean. Wanna spar?" She's considering. It'd let her keep tabs on me, and if we went to a training ground we'd be surrounded by ninja. It's only noon, after all. She gives me a lopsided grin and a nod. I'm on the roof before she stops moving.


	5. Chapter 5

Being drunk seems to jar something loose and I move better than I've ever moved before. It's unsettling, so I use a basic medical jutsu to draw the alcohol from my blood. It doesn't help. I touch down at the training grounds and I'm not even breathing hard. Only a few days ago I would have been, especially at that speed. It takes Anko a few seconds to catch up. It's nothing I can put my finger on, say that this has changed, but it's there nevertheless. I think that I use the ground differently, use my weight differently, and, I don't know, think about running differently. It's very irritating. I'm going to rip Anko a new one.

A few ANBU hail me. I'm not social anymore, but I'm not an outcast. It's by my own will. I don't know any of these people, though. Sure, I know about them, I've worked and will work with them, it'd be stupid not to, but I don't really know them. I could tell you their names, their habits, their opinions, their style of fighting, but that doesn't really mean anything. I don't have a feel for them. They don't hold it against me. They know about me and Shikamaru, everyone knows about me and Shikamaru, and so they think they understand and accept it. We Genin 9 were famous for a while, the miracle generation that would lead Konoha to a new age. All of us got to the third phase of the chunnin test on our first year as genin, after all. That faded after all the teams started falling apart. Besides, I'm beautiful and have talent to spare. Even those that don't want into my pants don't want to get on my bad side.

I scan the area, then freeze. Chouji is here. He's getting his chunnin, who graduated on their third year as genin, second test, to spar with his new genin team. He yells out advice and reminders every once in a while. He stretches like an avalanche and looks around, spotting me. He opens his mouth, then looks discomfited and glances away. He looks a bit like a bear with indigestion. I walk over and wait next to him, watching his muscles ripple as he tenses. We hold for a few moments before he sighs and yells to his teams. "Practice your ranged weapons now. Zeke, keep them on their toes. You have permission to wound." They all gulp except, of course, Zeke, who grins instead. I wave to Anko, telling her to warm up or something as I talk to Chouji.

We walk off out of hearing of the grounds, but still close enough to keep an eye on Chouji's teams. I feel like a child next to him. He's massive and scarily muscular, which is bad enough, but more than that is six and a half feet tall! I'm five eight, but it's no comfort. He's truly a giant now, I can't circle his bicep with both hands. For all that, he's surprisingly agile. Someone that huge and that muscled shouldn't even by able to cross their arms, but for his abilities. He pioneered the method of using muscle instead of fat, which nearly got him disowned. Now that he's got it he's able to do amazing things, changing the size and shape of his body at will. He's both a champion body-builder and a champion contortionist. He glances at me again – strange to see a shy mountain – then states: "I heard that Shika was looking for you." It's a question.

I grimace. Chouji was caught in our battle of love and has vowed not to speak to either of us until it's over. Normally, when Shika finally makes up his mind to try for me again nobody sees us for two days but my cat.

"I turned him down. Hard." Chouji looks at me in surprise, and then raises an eyebrow. "He was pretty… Um, intense, but I managed. He's pissed." Chouji huffs, a single rumble of laughter that sets off a wave of rippling muscle.

"That's a first. Is it good?" I can feel him try to smother a glimmer of hope. Chouji still loves us both, in a brothers/sister way. It's hurt him to stay apart from us, to not invite us to his wedding with Ayame, when his children were born, but he stayed firm. It hurt him more to have us both blaming him for taking sides whenever we broke up. He had our parents as proxies at all of the events for the three-family traditions. When we stop either way, he will become friends with us again. He'd rather that I learned to love Shikamaru so that we could be friends together, but he's willing that Shika stop trying so that we could be friends apart.

"Yeah… Yeah, I think it is. I could do it again, I hope." I say the last in the wry tone, drawing a dry chuckle from him. "You know what I am. You know how he gets, even when he tries to hide it. I hope I can turn him down again. So, how are the twins?"

He lets me change the subject without a fuss. He doesn't want to talk about it either. His face begins to glow with an intense happiness; he loves his wife and he loves his kids. "Mmm, monsters. Just three years old and already starting to eat me out of house and home. I never appreciated my parents enough. It's gotten even worse now that I'm starting to show them the training games. Three years olds are monsters, you have to get them tired out to deal with them. Three year old Akimichi's don't get tired, just hungry. " I laugh. I remember so many stories of Chouji getting into trouble, Chouji going farther faster than me and Shika... "Luckily, I've been able to rope my dad into babysitting them. Ayame bitches about the ramen shop not being able to feed him on top of us three, but she's glad for the help. Dad's finally coming around to my style too. Well, he still says that tradition is very important and that we shouldn't turn our backs on those techniques… But he's getting pretty buff. On a entirely unrelated note, my kids are going to have a new uncle in eight months."

I laugh and give him a big hug. He hugs me back, leaving me dangling maybe five inches off the ground. "Congratulations! Maybe in a month or two I'll stop by. We can't take it too fast. I have to get back. Anko's probably getting impatient." He puts me down and steps back, still smiling. His eyes are suspiciously wet, maybe mine are too.

"I look forward to it. See you in a month. And… Thank you for being so understanding." I shake my head at him.

"No, thank you for forgiving me. In your place… I wouldn't have had the heart. I'm so sorry for what we put you through." Shit. I wipe my eyes quickly. Anko is probably laughing at us. He gives me another hug, but I push him away. "We can't get too sloppy. Get back to your students. What will they think of you?"

He laughs at me and puts on a little leer. "They'll think nothing. They have to watch me make out with Ayame after all. I think they almost believe in cooties again." He gets a little more serious. "I forgave you a long time ago. Now let's get back." We walk in silence, just enjoying each others company. At least until we see his students. Somewhere along the way practice had turned into a full-fledged brawl. Chouji just roared and waded right in, not noticeably calming it down. I just shake my head and walk over to Anko. She lifts an eyebrow at me.

"Have a little heart-to-heart with him? I thought you two never spoke to each other." She's staring at the brawl wistfully, radiating a bitter-sweet ache, where Chouji has more or less broken it up. Well, he has a kid in both hands, genin in both armpits, and he's trying to trap the last two chunin in the crook of his elbows. I suddenly remember that she had been taught by Orochimaru. Its one thing all her friends have in common. We either don't care or forget about it.

I start stretching a bit and take off my weights. You don't get to do that before an actually fight, but this is just a spar. I can feel the same strange fluidity that I had before. It still bugs me. "It's the first time that we've spoken in years. We're childhood friends, and still are friends, it's just… Well, you've probably heard the story. I'm hoping it might change." We both get into the neutral position, bow, and return. It's a good position for the beginning of a fight, especially when at a range like this. You can use ninjutsu quickly, you can get into whatever position is required before they get near, and you can move freely.

She gives a lopsided smile and casually begins to circle. "Yes, even outcasts like me have heard the story. Even if I hadn't I'd have heard you and Shik yelling at each other and could pick up the rest." I'm not angry anymore, not after talking to Chouji, but I still think that I'm going to enjoy this fight. I'm going to get my ass kicked, to be honest I just can't beat her experience, but I'm going to enjoy making her pay for it.

"Bitch. You're going down." I say it with a grin to take the sting out of the words, and I don't actually act on them. I just stop circling – in a moment the sun would have been in my eyes – and flip my hands at her in a come-get-some movement. She shrugs and does.

My blood starts singing. She starts off with sending her snakes at me, a smart move. It gets me moving dodging, and she can do other things while keeping it up. If she actually catches me, an outcome that neither of us expect, than she's won. Or at least, that was the plan. I can feel the singing in my blood and the strange fluid feeling combine to give me a confidence, almost arrogance, that I've never had before. I acted like it, sure, because it kept me sane. If I act strong than they believe that I'm strong which helps make me strong. Now, I know I'm strong and I don't even bother to dodge. I don't know what I'm going to do, but…

So easy, with perfect timing, I reach out and grab the snakes. My hands pass a hair over wet, shining jaws and serrated back-pointed teeth and I grab down, catching my thumb in that tiny spot just behind the base of a snakes spine where you can just squeeze and with a tiny little snap, more felt than heard, they go all limp at once and it all seems so slow so I set my feet and I pull not expecting that she goes flying out of control and I can dash forward just before she recovers and she lands off balance and I punch her hard right in the gut and she hits the ground and shoves into the air landing on her feet just in time for me to hit her in the face and she falls back bloody bleeding beautiful and I kick her in the knee and pull on the snakes bringing her back up for a headbutt and I get hit by a wall of flesh and lose my grip and she hits the ground and I can feel that she's out cold as my sight is blocked by the meat and I turn my attention to myself.

I'm held close but not immobile and I hear a THUMP and a THUMP so I bring back my hand and open my palm and fill it with chakra and I hit as I twist and it doesn't work and fill and I hit as I twist and it doesn't work so I stiffen my fingers and I prepare to dig through this motherfucker and I stab with two fingers and blood flies out but too much so why is there so much blood and I hear "-NNNOOOO! IIIINNNOOO!" Pure shock makes me stop struggling and just stiffen . "INO! For fucks sake CALM THE FUCK DOWN!"

"Wh- wha? What? Why'd you stop me? I almost had her!" He squeezes a bit, I'm held in his arms in a bear hug at his chest and oh god I almost tore out his heart!

"Ino! God! Relax, stop fighting against me! I'm not trying to hurt you!" It takes an effort of will to relax. I take a deep breath – Ayame's a lucky girl, how does he get his sweat to smell sweat? – and one by one I loosen my muscles until I'm entirely limp. He has a picture of a red butterfly tattooed on his biceps. One wing says Ayame, the other Chouji. "THANK you! FUCK! What's my birthday? Where was I born?" What? What the hell? Why the fuck does he want me to tell his birthday? Where he was BORN?

"Wha- What the hell? Why- no, I don't care. You were born May 1st, in the office of Yamaguchi Bob's Baroque Barbeque. I've heard that story fifty fucking times. What do you WANT? Why'd you stop me?" He lets out a sigh and relaxes, just holding me for several seconds. I could probably wriggle free, but I don't quite know what's happening. It might be a bad idea. I study the butterfly instead. It's covered in tiny little scars, like real butterflies scales. The ink is strange, glossy. When you move your head you can see tiny little pink hearts ripple across it. I want to know the artist.

"Good," He sounds exhausted and feels totally drained. I can't imagine why. "Good, you aren't possessed or anything." WHAT? POSSESSED? "People have trouble remembering things like that when they're screwing around in someone else's head. You told me that was why you couldn't do long-term possessions. Now, are you calm? Are you going to go after her again? Can I put you down?" What? Of course I'm not calm, you just interrupted my fight! And of COURSE you can put me down! I want to yell that out and hit him, but looking at those two puncture marks just above the butterfly, I decide better of it.

"No, I'm not possessed. No, I'm not going to go after Anko. Yes, I'm calm. SO-!" I take a breath, let it out. "So please put me down. Chouji, please?" He rumbles a bit, then opens his arms and drops me. It's almost a five foot fall. He could've warned me, but I suppose I shouldn't be a bitch, nearly having torn out his heart and all. Oh god, I… No, I will not submit to shock.

He shrinks, covering himself with one still-large hand. I glance around and see that the entire training grounds is crowded a short distance from us, staring and muttering. I can see a few people arriving at a dead run. "Can someone throw me a robe or something? Thanks!" Some woman I don't know, blushing and unrepentantly staring, throws him a large scarf. He fiddles around with his other hand, tying it into a crude loincloth. "I didn't expect to have to use that at this training grounds, so I didn't wear the stretchy clothes. Again, thank you and sorry ma'am, but I'm happily married. Now Ino, what the hell happened? And if any medics can be spared from Anko, can someone look at me? The punctures aren't too bad, I squeezed off the blood vessels, but those palm strikes..." I take another glance guiltily, and sure enough Anko has a three medic-nin clustered around her. One looks familiar. I didn't think that I had hurt her that bad…

One of the medics turns and yells out to the crowd, "She's okay, a few broken ribs, a dislocated kneecap, minor internal bleeding, and probably a concussion, but nothing fatal. She's completely stable. Now… THE FIGHTS OVER, NOTHING TO SEE HERE." The crowd disperses as Shizune walks over, giving me a dirty look. I cringe. Just out of the hospital and I'm putting someone into one. Come to think of it, I'm not even supposed to be out of the hospital… She looks at Chouji, frowns at the punctures, then fills her hands with chakra and puts them on the two flowering bruises. She frowns for a moment, moves her mouth as if she's about to say something, then jerks as if struck. "What the!... Ino, what did you DO to him? I can heal it but… Did you invent a new Jyuuken or something? His internal organs are!.." She shakes her head, caught between healing him and staring at me. But… I remember thinking that it failed. What was it supposed to do?...

She decides to concentrate on Chouji, which leaves me free to wiggle and think about sneaking away. It'd be a very bad idea, but… My thoughts are interrupted by harsh laughter and the various threats and exclamations medic-nin use when faced with a patient they can't control. I turn; Anko is staggering towards me while leaning on a protesting medic. She cackles again, clutching her side, then grins at me. "You've got it. You bitch, you lucky fucking bitch."

"I've got what?" I reply guardedly. She looks rather demented and few of my conversations with psychos have ended well.

She gets that strange, bittersweet feel that she always gets when she thinks about Orochimaru, but this time tinged with a feral black humor. "The thing he discarded me because of." The medic tries to edge away from her without letting her fall down. "The thing that has made monsters of almost every person it touches. The thing that separates the men from the boys!" She pauses to cough up a bit of blood. She waves off the medic and snaps her ribs into place. I wince, I can hear the sound from here. She straightens and wipes her lips with the back of her hand, stilling wearing that grin. "I am in my PRIME, girl. I am as strong and fast as I ever was, strong and fast as YOU, and far more experienced. You kicked my ass. You BRUTALIZED me." The crowd is gathering again.

She snaps her leg straight, grunting with the pain, then strides right up to me. Anko gets right in my face, close enough that I can smell the copper-iron stench of blood on her breath. She grins in my face, then wheels around and raises her arms to the sky, swaying but slightly. "YAMANKA INO IS NOW OFFICIALLY A FUCKING GENIUS! HEAR AND TAKE NOTE! SHE CAN KICK ALL YOUR ASSES! AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME!" She laughs again, wildly. Her medic is terrified, just wringing his hands and staring. She continues in a lower but no less frightening tone. "So, what are you going to do? Slaughter teammates? Kill your family? I hear that that ones been in style recently. Join the Akatsuki? Another popular decision for your kind. Why, if I was you I'd… I'd…" Mercifully she turns white and faints. Her medic barely catches her, staggering under her weight. I reach out to stabilize him and he flinches away, giving a little scream as he does it. I can barely restrain a laugh. He's more scared of me as he was of her. I look around, cooler than I feel, and the crowd flinches at my gaze. Their fear beats at my mind. Chouji's kids are huddled together, staring at me open-mouthed. Their fear smashes the gates.

I turn to Chouji and Shizune, smiling saccharine sweet. In a conversational tone that is shocking in the sudden silence, I speak. "I think we, I, need to talk to Tsunada. The Hokage's tower has a good med center anyways, and it IS closer than the hospital." I smile again and Shizune almost flinches. Chouji is staring at me with his heart in his eyes, with too much compassion, so I must turn and start to walk away.

From behind me comes a hoarse whisper. Shizune says but one thing. "Yes. I think I agree." Pale and weak words to cut so deep. They follow me.


	6. Chapter 6

It's a strange little procession that enters the Hokage's tower. Chouji is walking along in a loincloth made from a scarf, Shizune poised to catch him if he should stumble. Anko is on a stretcher being carried by two medics, both whom would be happier farther away from her. There is a small crowd behind us full of gawkers and guards, with nothing to tell them apart. Then there is me. They watch pretty little Yamanka Ino like a fox among hens, tensing every time I so much as twitch. Their fear drives me; it puts a fire in my belly like nothing I've felt before. The tower guards don't know what to make of it.

I smile; it's something that drops them into combat stances. Can't imagine why as I'm trying to look friendly. I'm cheery as I explain my needs, saying, "I'd like to talk to the Hokage. These people need medical attention." You'd think I threatened to eat their children. Not taking his eyes off me one reaches for a little bell and rings it, bringing the captain out of the hut. He looks at me, gives a start, looks at Anko, gives a shudder. Shikamaru and Anko were supposed to bring me in. I bring one in on a stretcher.

He thinks visibly then nods me in, saying warily, "Go right up. I don't think that Hokage-sama is busy at the moment. But if you'll wait a moment…" He skirts me as he moves past, being polite but wary. I check myself mentally. Blood drying on my hands, being followed by a man with puncture wounds over his heart, another woman who was supposed to bring into custody is on a stretcher, and I think I'm smiling with too many teeth. I make an effort to rein it in. He talks with Shizune quietly for several moments, glancing at me, then goes back into his little hut. A small gong sounds and a squad of ANBU appears, quickly taking up a triangle position around me. Am I really that scary?

We split up, the crowd dispersing again, the wounded going to the med center, then Shizune, my guard, and I climbing the stairs. As the crowd gets farther away I try to relax, but the tense paranoia of the ANBU still keeps me a bit on edge. I can feel that little fire in my stomach growing bit by bit, second by second. I need a mission. I want to kill something. The ANBU draw back and put hands on weapons, so I make an effort to relax again. I smile at them until Shizune says dryly, "It doesn't reach your eyes." The smile slides into something else and weapons slide a centimeter out. There are anbu and then there are ANBU. We go up a little slower so that they can keep ready.

We finally get to Tsunada's office and are greeted by the wonderful sound of Shikamaru's voice. He's yelling; I'll bet that he's yelling about me. I am so not in the mood for this. At my frown my guards nearly pull their weapons, the guards on the door actually do. I give them a withering glare and they slowly put them away. Don't let anyone get the jump on you, but making a fight where there is none is just stupid. They're high-ranked but they're acting like amateurs. One of them lets out a sigh of relief when I turn my attention to the door. Amateurs. I loath amateurs.

Shikamaru is almost yelling, yelling about me. "… Like herself at all! It's too much of a risk to keep her here, not with her skill level. She can be replaced, there are better ANBU coming up the ranks, ones that actually work with their teammates." He has a point, a very valid point. I am, or at least I was, not strong enough to warrant execution and but not weak enough to be kept under control. It's traditional in this situation to send risks on an open-ended "last-mission". Either they come back or they don't; there are no hard feelings either way. "Besides, you told me yourself that she has an extra fucking rib now, and that can't be a good sign." Wait, what?

"Wait, WHAT?" The door hits the wall and swings back faintly vibrating. I didn't realize that I had moved. I've two knives coming from either side of my throat and something is pricking my back. I really should be more careful while under guard like this. Shikamaru is twisted back towards me, one hand on the desk and surprise written on his face. He jerks back into the corner and glares at me, hands-in-pockets sullen. He looks like a civvie teenager. Tsunade is rubbing her temples the way she does, so I suppose he was yelling at her close enough that it hurt. It'd give me a headache too. I walk forward and don't slit my throat. A gamble that they'd move, but a gamble I'm willing to make. "What are you talking about, an extra rib?"

"My headache in person. How sweet. Stop smiling like that; you look psychotic." She continues rubbing her temples, giving me a baleful red-eyed glare. Tsunade has been getting older and more tired the entire time she's been here. According to Jiraya, at least, it's because of Naruto. She was the one who decided to give him a last-mission and it's dragged on her. Not only was he most of the reason she even took the job, the council has given her shit for years for letting our greatest weapon and greatest enemy go, never mind that if he had stayed we might have driven him insane ourselves. She continues after taking an Advil, "You escaped the hospital, nearly strangling one of your guards with that trap, evaded ANBU for the entire day, and when Shikamaru finally found you he got ripped up and down both ways. Not to mention that Anko isn't here. What the hell have you done with her? Ino, do you know how much trouble you're in?"

I have to smile, for real this time. I've been thinking that the quality of ANBU has been going down in the past few years, which is probably has. Between Sound and Red Moon we've been in a cold war for a while now. Cold wars aren't good for spies or special forces. If they somehow managed to get nearly strangled by that little trap they've been getting crappier than I thought. "Not as much trouble as I'm going to be in. I don't think I should be the one to tell you." Her eyes slide to Shizune, who doesn't seem to be happy with the attention. She's still staying at the edge of my reach, where she can back off if need be.

She takes a deep breath and collects herself. She gnaws on her lip a bit, which is kind of cute, then begins in a calm and very reasonable tone, "Ino started to spar with Anko, nearly killed her before Chouji was able to interrupt, invented a new type of palm-strike, almost killed Chouji with it, but instead tried to dig out his heart before she noticed who it was." I feel like I should be fidgeting under that stare, but Tsunade thinks that it's funny in a black way. It's refreshing after all of that paranoia and fear. Speaking of paranoia and fear, the ANBU behind me is tensing up, actually breaking the skin of my throat a little bit. I really should be more nervous about that, but I don't think that he'll go through with it unless I bait him. "Anko seems to believe that she is now a genius in the way of Itachi, Orochimaru, or Hinata, and… I only saw half the fight, but Ino barely broke a sweat. We didn't stop her, she stopped herself with our help. Anko might be right. Both Anko and Chouji are downstairs in the med center."

Shikamaru is actually slack-jawed. For one, normally Chouji would have left the training area if either of us showed up. I feel obliged to explain. "I really wasn't meaning to kill her, you know how high-level sparring is, you just have to go all-out or there isn't any point to it. I didn't think that she was that… Well, fragile. Thought she was going to kick my ass actually, just wanted to get a few good hits in before I went. And, um, I was still a bit on-edge after my fight with Shika … So… Well, I was reacting without thinking. It really was an accident. He attacked me, I thought, and so… Well, I stopped when I noticed that he was just…" I let it trail off. I actually start fidgeting, at least until the knives cut me again. I push them off me with another glare. The ANBU back away fast, but go further into the room so they flank me at a safer distance. It's getting annoying to have all these paranoid bastards eyeing me, but I let the ones behind me stay because they aren't being nuisances.

She sighs and covers her eyes, making me feel like a kid caught with one hand in a cookie jar and the other spilling the chocolate milk. "So… She was more fragile than you thought, you didn't mean to, and you stopped when you noticed what you were doing. That sounds innocent." She gets up and stretches, making those huge breasts strain against the fabric, then scratches her ass. Tsunade isn't the most… Regal ruler we've ever had. Both the ANBU and, to a lesser extent, Shika seem distracted by the show. Fucking amateurs. I trip the one directly behind me when he takes the point away, which gets me two kunai pressing into my throat, but it's worth it. I can turn my laugh into a cough, but I can't suppress the cat-with-the-cream grin. She waves off the ANBU and stalks around the table, getting right in my face. "It's about as psychotic as you've been acting just now, but basically innocent. So, why did you escape the hospital and end up in a bar? Just want to go shopping? There were no sales so you needed a drink? Oh, and Ino? STOP FUCKING SMILING LIKE THAT." The last is delivered with a poke to my chest, which is pretty funny when her boobs are pressed up at me like that.

I take a breath or two so that I don't break out laughing, then try and explain again. "Er, yeah, a bit. You know that I've had a lot of missions these past few years, barely time enough for our little fights and ANBU training, so I've got a lot of pay built up without having spent any of it…" One eyebrow is twitching and a vein has softly started to pulse. I speed up a bit. "Long story short, I've no clothes and haven't even been to a party in two years, I only get invited lately through Shika and nobody was risking a break-up during an event…" The look on his face is… Thundercloud doesn't describe it. His hands are shoved so far into his pockets that he's going to break his belt.

Trying to not laugh in her face, I continue again. "Um, yeah, I need new clothes if I was going to revive my social life, but there was nothing I wanted, so I had nothing to do, so I-," can't let in that I gave up to the crowd, Yamanka who do that aren't stable– "I had nothing to do, and I needed to think, but didn't want to think, and the bar seemed like a good place to do that, and well, it seemed like a good idea at the time… After that, I kinda needed to cool off, and a spar seemed like a good way to do that, so…"

She's getting more and more flushed the more I go on; her eyebrow is a metronome and it looks like that blood vein is going to burst. The ANBU have been backing away slowly the entire time I've been talking. Shizune hasn't been that subtle. She'd have put a blast shield up if she was able. Tired and hung-over oba-chan might need protection against the big bad Ino. Pissed oba-chan can finish what she starts. "A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME? You're waiting for a debriefing after surviving a fight with two of the most deadly people in the fucking world, so you go SHOPPING, DRINKING, AND BRAWLING? What the FUCK were you THINKI-"

I can't stop it this time. I can't keep it in. Sure, she's going to hit me, but she's just so damn CUTE when she's angry. I laugh so hard I cry; I actually fall against the doorframe. I catch sight of the ANBU team that escorted me up here cowering behind the desks of the door guard/secretaries. The wrath of the bimbo-queen is coming, flee for your lives! Everyone is staring at me like I'm fucking crazy, and maybe I am. She looks absolutely pole-axed and that sets me off again. "Are you done yet? Need a shot to help calm you down? Or do you just think that this little situation is funny?" Her anger has gathered again, the flames of rage barely held back by a wall of icy restraint. With a herculean effort I calm down and get back up, still letting out giggles every once in a while.

She's just getting angrier by the second and everyone else is wondering whether survival is worth their dignity, if they should just jump out the window before she finally blows up and destroys the entire building. I still think that it's funny as hell. All their fear should bring me down fast, but it doesn't. Instead of sharing their emotions I instead just get a sort of suicidal recklessness. It doesn't help that the fire in my belly seems to be flaring up again. I can barely restrain it, but I make my best effort to be diplomatic. I lean forward, kiss her on that cute little diamond, and begin, "Sorry oba-chan, I –" move out of the way sliding like water just enough that I feel the wind on my ear and twist and grab and put my shoulder into her and I twist again taking her power her punch and slam her down into the floor with it and it tears like wet paper and I jump back before she passes through but still get to see the basement and I slide over the desk and they come after me holding kunai thinking me off balance and so I take one arm and I break it to prove him wrong and then use him to shield from the other and hit him on that special place in the chin he jerks back but I knew he would and it connects and his eyes dim and I turn and the other three are flying towards me and it's so easy to just move like this and twist like that and they go through the window sparkling glass so pretty so bright and dodge the shadow and grab his face and slam him through the wall feeling him loose unconscious and one left not moving not a threat and she isn't attacking, Shizune is too smart to attack me after I took out five ANBU and Tsunade.

I take a deep breath and step away, putting my back against the outside wall. Two faces appear in the broken window at about the same time a horde start spilling through the door. Tsunade leaps effortlessly out of the hole, holding out a hand to stop the ninja from attacking me. She waves them off, making them gradually disperse and leave. Shizune very slowly and very carefully comes out of that oh-so-neutral stance she had gone into, watching me the entire time. They both carefully check whoever is closest, making sure none are dead. Luckily, none are, though one is pretty well roughed up, in between me breaking his arm and getting stabbed in the other shoulder by his friend. Tsunada waves some of the remaining responders to bring them all down to the med center anyways. She carefully lowers herself into her chair, rubbing her lower back. Nothing is funny right now. I think I'm having mood swings.

"First off. You've been having violent mood swings, right?" I give her a grim little smile and a nod. She chuckles, "It's pretty damn obvious. Two, you're moving differently. Not like you have discovered a new style, it's more like you're working off an entirely different set of instincts. To be honest, it's making everyone that sees you nervous. Not to mention you kicked my ass with it." I give her another nod, this one with a grimace. My mind is mine. The dream showed it, but this confirms it. The very essence of me is being changed, already has been changed. "Third, you have an extra rib. One a bit oddly shaped, a bit like one of those teeth on Samehada… Am I right?" I remember him stabbing me. I feel my chest, she's right. It's there, touching it sends a deep tingle through me. It's not her though, it's not Samehada. I give her another nod. "That's the root for both of these, I'd bet my village on it. I won't, though. I've horrible luck. Tell me the story. Know that whatever happens, I've decided to let you leave. Coming back is optional."

"At the end of the fight… He… Stabbed me. He broke a tooth off and stabbed me." In the hospital, after, I had a dream. I was me in my dream, but not. Powerful. Beautiful. Alien." The tingle is spreading, strengthening. My voice is getting ragged, coming out almost in a whisper. I start walking towards her, staring in her eyes, letting a slight sway come into my steps. "I'm a Jinochuriki now, not like Naruto or Gaara, but more something like Kisame is. Not quite, though. He is bound to her, the bone woman, but me… I have someone else in me. It's someone who refused to die for a long, long, long time, and wants to live again." She's staring at me, following me with my eyes. The words are spilling from my mouth, the moves straight from my heart. I'm drawing her in, snaring her, scaring her.

"It's hungry, it wants blood, power, flesh, it wants them any way it can get them… I think I'm losing control." The tingle is more of a burn now, a low, slow, pleasurable burn, but still fire. I need to feed it. I slowly lean over the table, over her. I can feel her fear, her control over it. Turn me on. "I want prey. Powerful prey, worthy prey, dangerous prey… I think it's male, too. I've never wanted to do this before, after all…" I kiss her. Shizune probably has her hands over her mouth not to scream, that mix of shock and fear. I don't think Tsunade has been kissed for a long, long time. I think she's about to lose control. I bite her lip.

Her fist rockets towards me and I barely jerk back in time. Her hand is trembing near my ear and I turn to look at it, watching the vein pulse in her thumb. Her blood is hot and bitter, tasty beyond belief, but an edge of something different. "I changed my mind. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you." She's hoarse as well, not with fear. I reach up and slowly pry her fist apart, finger by finger.

"What some call demons other call gods. Gods can bring nightmares, but all bring…" I lick her palm, tasting sweet sweat mixing with the blood. Rot. The other taste is death, rot. I suddenly see her chakra, and underneath the normal, powerful blue glow is a black stain clinging to her blood and bones. I bite down and she loses control. The flesh between my teeth toughens and tightens, the dark rot coming to the fore. I feel like my chakra has teeth as I tear the darkness out and drink it down. Even before my teeth get there the flesh flays and splits, seeming chewed to the bone. Blood spurts, but it barely takes the edge off my hunger. The remaining flesh of her hand softens, age lines wiping away. I glance at her face, where she's looking more alive every moment. I draw off when the pulse weakens, leaving her looking a mere sixty, whispering against her wrist, "Wonders." Someone clears their throat in the doorway. Tsunade brings up her illusion before I turn, not letting her true self be seen. No, she's not rotting. An overripe plum, perhaps, sweeter and jucier than ever.

"Are we inturrupting anything?" Udon has a pale kind of handsomeness. He's actually quite good looking, if you happen to notice him, even though you forget it once he's out of sight. He has an air of ordinariness that has lead to the death of over a dozen ninja. He is talented and ruthless. He may become jounin next year.

"Niiice lipstick. What's it called?" Moegi, on the other hand, one can't help but notice. She's Well under way on her goal to become the most beautiful kunoichi and she knows how to dress to impress. She wears red lipstick, has large red circles around her eyes, red line tattoos running from the corners of her mouth, crossing to nipples showing under her red tube top, crossing again to the insides of her thighs under a red miniskirt, and finishing in a circle at her well-shaped ankles. Jiraya's influence is easily visible.

I swallow a mouthful of thick, sweet blood. My voice is low and throaty when I whisper, "Blood red." I lick my lips clean and smile, watching her as she pales. Beautiful. I turn my attention to the last member of Jiraya's team, of the Horny Brats, Konohamaru. He's got Naruto's charisma and Jiraya's charm, and twice the style of either. Alone among the trio he wears the horned headband that is half the reason for their name. The other half is that Konohamaru is the biggest playboy of the town and neither Moegi nor Udon have much shame or self-control. In fact, you could call them exhibitionists and not be wrong. I grin at them, which makes them more uncomfortable than it should, and ask, "And why are you three here? Need another indecent exposure charge lifted? Public perversion maybe? Or just a standard criminal mischief?"

He draws back, an expression of shock and outrage on his face. "You wound me!" He exclaims, "It's been at least two weeks since any of us had any of those! Besides, we do work for Tsunada when there aren't any other Hokages in the area. Or diplomats. Or merchants. Or, uh, anyone who wants to see Tsunade." He laughs and rubs the back of his heads, managing to look both insufferably cute and handsome at the same time. "The point is," He continues, "We work for Tsunade sometimes. Currently we're delivering your victims." He steps aside and the world almost stops.

There she is, Anko. Even with ribs bound and a cast on, battered and so nearly broken, she's beautiful. Lovely eyes, wondrous pale skin, nice long curves… Pulsing at her throat, there's that knot of power. It seethes at her skin, almost bursting from her. I want to help it. I want to walk over and take her, stick my knee between her and press it into her core, caress those curves and make her cry out, make her throw back that lovely neck in ecstasy, baring it to me, and then… Then I would bite down and drink that power dry. Or I could just kill her. I will do whatever I need to do, no matter what it might be.

I can almost feel that soft skin, the quivers of her beneath my fingers, the smell of her hair, the taste of her skin, of her sweet copper-bitter blood and the rush of the power with it… I tear myself away, to Shizune. Nice, safe, weak Shizune, who only has a well of chakra on her forehead, which makes me want to… Again, I jerk myself away, my control a fraying string. This time my gaze settles on Konohamaru.

Maru is handsome, I have to admit. He's got a good body, an impeccable sense of style, and the right attitude. On the other hand… He breaks my mood when he tries to subtly flex and puff his chest out. I go from insane hunger to laughing so hard I cry without time to take a breath. It takes a minute but I collect myself enough to gasp something out. "There's a fat chance of that. I met you when you were just a snot-nosed brat, and while you aren't snot-nosed anymore… You're still just a brat." He grunts cutely and takes his headband off to polish the horns. He's a perfect picture of injured dignity, but doesn't quite pull it off. It's enough to set me off again.

"She's a Jinuchuriki." Shikamaru is in the doorway, standing in front of Anko. He has so little chakra that I barely even noticed him, to be honest. "It explains everything. The extra 'rib', why Kisame spared her, and her sudden… Feralness. Isonade eat chakra, and that's what connects the people that she's been... Whatever at. Anko has her curse seal, and both Shizune and the Hokage have their infuin." He's trying to hide it, but I think he's pretty put out that he doesn't have enough chakra to be interesting. I don't even get a twinge. "She probably reacts even more strongly because they are seals, making it easier for her to steal the energy. What do you think, Hokage-sama?" He hasn't looked at me throughout the entire speech, talking only to her. I don't mind, which I doubt is the intended effect.

"Sounds about right." Tsunade is still more than a little shell-shocked, her voice a bit thin. Understandable, I guess. When I ate that black stuff I think I took a decade off her age, which is enough to shock anyone. I think I can count on goodwill from that quarter, at least. Given a month I could get her no older than Jiraya. I let her see that I'm willing, licking my lips at her. "I think… That you don't have much control right now. And I don't think that being in Konoha will help, will it?"

I take a breath and try and ride the fire. I'm clamping down on it as hard as I can, nearly failing. It's true that I can barely control it. I think for a moment, then smile. "I can't fight this. When I woke up yesterday I could feel something, though I didn't realize it. It filled my chest, my ribs. Now…" I feel my eyes go half-lipped, staring at her. A burning point of light shines in a sea of darkness, the infuin swimming in her curse. I have to concentrate to see the "real" her. The smile tugs into a full-fledged grin. "I'm full of it. I AM it. Unless you can take out every sliver of bone in my body, this cannot be undone. I'm a Yamanka, an expert at fighting outside influences. I can't fight myself. I think… No, I should not stay in Konoha." They're all staring at me, uneasy and a little bit scared. Scared means pray to what's inside me. "Not until I learn to live with it."

"Learn to live with it?.. And how will you do that?" Tsunade has recovered from shock, and is now trying to hide everything beneath a mask again. Doesn't work when I can feel her emotions. I continue grinning, making her a stew of wonder, despair, and deva-ju. Naruto. I remind her of Naruto. I can almost see how it had gone when she released him. He would come in, clumsy, clueless, and laughing. As she explained what she was offering, what could happen, that mask would melt away, leaving something sadder, more determined, and infinitely more dangerous. No one ever saw him again. She, we, never saw him again. Nobody did. She doesn't want me to disappear.

"I'll find someone. A willing donor, a powerful one. There has to be at least one. Till then…" I pause, thinking how exactly to phrase this. Simple is best. "We've had a problem recently. I'll hunt criminal-nin." She simply stares. "I'd like the usual bounty put in my blind account, but I don't need any other support. What do you say?"

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, then sighs. "Fine. It's a standard last-mission anyways, I don't even need to write up any new paperwork. Just…" She pauses, her eyes glittering with tears. "Don't kill any allies and don't attract council attention. You've got two hours to prepare. When you come back… Come back yourself or don't come back at all. Everybody leave. I need a nap." She drops her head on her arms and is snoring in seconds.

I smile and stretch, muscle by muscle. I can feel everyone tensing behind me. "I'm gone." I jump out the window. Nobody follows me. I skip over the roofs, pausing only to grab supply scrolls from my apartment. I'm out of the city in minutes. 


End file.
